Watching You
by Kate Anderson
Summary: *story complete* What happens when we die? Faith finds out the answer to that question
1. Part One

Title: Watching You  
  
Author: Kate Anderson  
  
Email: sam_loves_jack@yahoo.ca  
  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. As much as I wish they were, they belong to Edward Allen Bernero, John Wells and some other fine folks. I'm just borrowing them for a while!  
  
Rating: PG-13   
  
Content Warnings: character death  
  
Spoilers: Up through current season four, but Bosco isn't working anti-crime in this world!  
  
Summary: What happens after we die?   
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. We wake up one morning, never expecting it to happen. But it does. One false step, one wrong move and bang, it's over.   
  
What happens when you die? I'd asked myself that question countless times, pondered it during long stretches of silence on my watch. As a police officer, I had stared Death in the face numerous times and then walked away from Him, unscathed.   
  
I discovered the answer to my question two long months ago. My name is Faith Yokas, and I was shot and killed in the line of duty.   
  
_____________   
  
At first I was frightened. I watched as the shooter ran down the street, closely followed by my partner. Bosco was yelling, cursing loudly. Then Sully and Davis showed up, alerted by Bosco's frantic shouts over the radio.   
  
I remember hearing Davis calling for a bus, kneeling down beside my body. Feeling desperately for a pulse. Sully stood behind him, trying to mask his instense grief. He knew the pain of losing a partner. I tried to call out to them, let them know that this was all a big mistake. I'm okay, I'm right here. They couldn't hear me.   
  
Bosco caught the guy, gave him a beating that he'll never forget. I stood and watched as Bosco pummelled him with his fists, kicked him in the groin and called him every name in the book.   
  
After a few minutes, Sully pulled Bosco off the guy. Cuffed him and threw him in the back of a squad. Bosco watched this impassively, his chest heaving. He never once looked towards my body, laying on the cold cement. Still bleeding.  
  
An ambulance showed up, it was Kim and Alex. They saw my body and trying to control their emotions, they doggedly worked over it. Pumping my chest, pushing drugs. Shocking me. Nothing worked. I tried to tell them to stop it, I was already dead, but they didn't listen. They loaded me onto a stretcher and brought me to the hospital.   
  
The doctor pronounced me. Said I had died a long time ago, shouldn't have even tried to save me. Kim had yelled, called him a bastard. Didn't he know that I was her friend? Alex blinked back tears, clutched onto Davis' arm. He ran his hands over her hair, tried to comfort her.   
  
Bosco sat down in a chair, with Sully at his side. He hadn't said more than three words since he gave my killer a beating. Sully touched Bosco's arm, told him that I was gone. Bosco nodded, his eyes remained straight forward, staring at the wall.   
  
It was Kim that called Fred. He pulled my children out of bed and rushed to the hospital. I watched as he looked at my pale body, cold and unmoving. His face contorted as he tried to control his emotions. Charlie sat down beside Bosco, looked up at him with a tear stained face. Why didn't you save her? He asked. You could have saved her!   
  
Bosco looked at my son and stood up. He walked quickly to the washroom. I didn't follow him, I had to find my daughter.   
  
Emily was with Kim, talking to her with all her adult experience. Kim explained how they had tried to save me, Emily nodded as though she understood. I tried to reach out, touch my daughter's shoulder. I'm still here Em. I haven't gone anywhere.   
  
That was two months ago. They buried my body, the funeral was nice. I can't even begin to explain how bizarre it is to witness your own funeral.   
  
Bosco received disciplinary action for beating that guy. He almost killed him. Two weeks off work, no pay. When he returned to the job, he was at a desk for another two weeks. They partnered him up with a rookie at first. The new guy didn't last more than two days, Bosco broke him.   
  
Bosco got another partner, this one a seasoned veteran. Help keep him in line Swersky figured. Help him through this difficult period in his life. I watched as Bosco took unnecessary risks, gambled with his life.   
  
Today I watched as Bosco chased a gang member down a fire escape and across a busy road. He caused a traffic pile-up, but somehow managed to escape serious injury himself. His partner, Officer Chandler, chastised him. Told him he was a real son of a bitch for doing that.   
  
Bosco nodded his head. Told Chandler where he could shove it. He did it for me. For me and for all the other innocent victims.   
  
______________   
  
"Uncle B?"   
  
Bosco looked down at Charlie's sombre face. "Yeah kiddo?"   
  
"I need you to come to school with me tomorrow."   
  
Bosco's face was the very picture of confusion. "For what?"   
  
"Show and tell." Charlie replied.   
  
"Show and tell?" Bosco repeated. "Aren't you a little old for show and tell?"   
  
"It's for a project, we need to bring in something that represents what we want to be when we grow up."   
  
"And you want to be what? A burned out, jaded cop?" Bosco said, a note of disgust in his voice.   
  
Charlie shook his head. "No, I want to help people. And kill people, like the person that hurt my Mom."   
  
Charlie refused to ever say that I was dead. I had always been hurt, never killed. "Wouldn't you rather be a lawyer?" Bosco asked. His voiced sounded weary.   
  
Charlie again shook his head. "No, I want to be a cop, like you. And like Mom. So, will you come?"   
  
Bosco sighed, realizing this was a losing argument. "I suppose. What time?"   
  
"At ten." Charlie replied. "And wear your uniform."   
  
"Alright kiddo, but only for you." Bosco ruffled my son's hair and looked at him sadly. "I gotta go now, 'kay?"   
  
"Your dinner break is over?"   
  
Bosco nodded. "Gotta get back out there."   
  
"Is that guy that you arrested gonna go to jail?" Bosco had told Charlie about the banger he'd chased out into the street.   
  
"I hope so." Bosco said and then turned and left the apartment. I knew Bosco felt guilty for letting me die. That's why he constantly visited Charlie. Emily refused to see him, she stayed in her room whenever he came by. Fred didn't care one way or the other. He had withdrawn from everything since my death.   
  
I followed Bosco out onto the street. Watched as he got back into the waiting squad car and rushed off to risk his life again. 


	2. Part Two

Title: Watching You (2/?)  
Author: Kate Anderson  
Email: sam_loves_jack@yahoo.ca  
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. As much as I wish they were, they belong to Edward Allen Bernero, John Wells and some other fine folks. I'm just borrowing them for a while!  
Rating: PG-13   
Content Warnings: character death  
Spoilers: Up through current season four, but Bosco isn't working anti-crime in this world!  
Summary: What happens after we die?   
Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for the feedback :) Not sure where I'm going with this, I'm just writing whatever comes to mind!   
  


"Faith?" 

Yeah Bos, I'm here. 

"Oh God Faith, why did I ever say I would do this?" Bosco asks as he tucked in his uniform shirt. "I can't go to Charlie's class and talk about what it means to be a police officer." 

Yes you can Bosco. You can and you will. 

"I'm not sure I even remember why anymore. Did I ever want to help people? I just want to hurt them all now Faith. Hurt them, kill them for what they did to you." 

Bosco turns around and looks at himself in the mirror. He runs a hand over his clean shaven face, a special effort made for Charlie I'm sure. "How did my life get so fucked up Faith?" he whispers, still gazing at himself. 

It's not fucked up Bos. Just wait and see, things will straighten themselves out. The universe has a habit of aligning itself. 

"I miss you Faith." he whispers. His eyes are empty. He's nothing but a shell of his former self, searching for answers. Answers to questions which have no answers. 

I want to help him. Reach out and touch him, let him know that he's not alone. I'm still here, with him. Watching him. 

He runs a hand over his shorn hair and sighs heavily. "I'm only doing this for your son Faith." he says and stands up straight. He looks handsome in the uniform, if you ignore the dark smudges under his eyes. The wrinkles on his forehead that I don't remember him having before I died. 

I follow Bosco as he leaves his apartment and gets into his Mustang. His baby. We go to Charlie's school, where Bosco parks the car and then sits there. Staring at himself in the rearview mirror. As though he's hypnotised. 

"Can't do this..." he mutters. 

Get on with it Bosco. Waiting around isn't going to help. Besides, you're already late. Bosco glances at his watch. An expensive watch, bought with the money that he claims he never has. "Shit," he mumbles. "Late already." 

He hops out of the car and slowly makes his way across the parking lot and up the steps that lead to the big entrance doors. "Can't do this." he mutters to himself the entire way. Several children gaze up at Bosco as he makes his way down the hallways of the school. Looks of wonder, and awe. And fear. 

If Bosco notices the fear, he doesn't show it. He slowly approaches the door to Charlie's classroom and knocks on it. Tentatively. He waits a moment and the knocks again. This time louder. 

Charlie's teacher, I think her name is Mrs Morgan opens the door and greets Bosco with a smile. "You must be Officer Boscorelli!" she exclaims and looks him over. "Charlie said that you'd be coming." 

Bosco dutifully extends a hand and the teacher takes it. As she shakes it, she gazes at Bosco. I remember meeting her husband once, a dirty man with a smoker's cough. No wonder she's looking at Bosco as though she was appraising a piece of meat in the supermarket. 

"Bosco!" Charlie appears at the door, peering around the large form of his teacher. 

"Hey Charlie," Bosco says and offers my son a small smile. 

"I didn't think you were going to come." Charlie says sadly. 

Bosco glances at his watch. "Sorry kiddo, got held up in traffic. I said I'd be here, didn't I?" 

Charlie nods and reaches for Bosco's hand. "Can I do my presentation now?" he asks, looking up at Mrs Morgan. Mrs Morgan nods, the bun on her head bouncing gleefully. 

She steps to the front of the classroom. Facing the rows of desks with confused looking children in them. "Class, I'd like you to please put away your books and turn your attention to the front of the room. Charlie is going to do his presentation now." 

There's a hum of voices as books are slid into the desks and pencils are tossed onto the floor. Or in some cases at the girl sitting in front of the boy. 

Charlie stands at the front, his chest puffed out. Bosco stands beside him, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Okay," Charlie says, his voice loud and clear. "When I grow up, I want to be a cop. My mom was a cop, but she was shot a couple months ago." He pauses, unsure of what to say next. 

Say that I died sweetie. You need to say it. 

"My mom didn't make it." Charlie says finally. "So when I'm old enough, I want to join the police and fight the guys that shot my mom." 

"That's very commendable Charlie." says Mrs Morgan from her perch on a stool. 

Bosco twitches nervously. He tries to avoid the stares of Charlie's classmates. Charlie gestures towards Bosco. "This is Bosco, he was my mom's partner." 

Bosco half waves his hand and nods his head. "Hi." he says. 

"Um, I guess Bosco will talk about being a cop." Charlie says and frowns a bit. 

"Thank you Charlie," Mrs Morgan says, "Take a seat, please so that Officer Boscorelli can talk." 

Charlie returns to his desk and gazes expectantly at Bosco. Him and thirty other small faces. Bosco clears his throat and tugs on his tie. "Good morning." he says. His voice quivers at bit. 

"My name is Officer Boscorelli and I'm with the 55th precinct. Does anyone know where that is?" 

Most of the kids shake their head, so Bosco supplies the answer. Then he continues, "Um well, I guess being a cop was a natural course of action for me. I wanted to help people, and I wanted some excitement in my life. So I joined the New York Police Department." 

One child raises a skinny arm. Bosco, who looks relieved to have a question says, "Yes?" 

"Charlie said that you were his mom's partner, why didn't you save her?" 

Bosco looks stricken. Much as he did that day in the emergency room when Charlie asked him the very same question. "You don't have to answer that." Mrs Morgan says. She then looks towards the child. "Jeremy, that was a very insensitive question!" 

The kid shrugs. "But I want to know. On all the shows I've seen, partners save each other!" 

"It's alright." Bosco says. He kicks a piece of chalk that's fallen on the floor. "When Charlie's mom was shot, I didn't know what to do. I've seen people get shot before, but never my partner. I called for help and help came. But it was too late." 

Charlie sits at his desk. He's staring out the window, rather than at Bosco. His eyes are filling with tears and I watch helplessly as they spill out and down his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry that I couldn't save her." Bosco says. "The truth is, I tried to hurt the man that killed her rather than help her." 

Mrs Morgan stands up. "Okay, I think that will suffice Officer. Charlie, do you want to go to the washroom?" 

Charlie nods mutely and runs from the room. Tears coursing down his cheeks. "Sorry." Bosco mumbles. "I didn't mean to make him cry." 

Mrs Morgan claps her hands and looks at her class. "Take out your math books." she says. "We're doing fractions today." 

Bosco leaves the classroom and walks down the hallway. His footsteps echo off the walls. He walks until he finds a washroom marked as the boys. He pushes the door open and steps inside. "Charlie?" 

"Go away." Charlie sniffles a bit and tries to yell at him. 

"Charlie, I'm sorry." Bosco says. His bites his bottom lip, waiting for a reply. 

"I said go away!" Charlie yells. "I don't want to see you, ever again!" 

"Come on Charlie," Bosco says, his voice quiet. "I miss her too." 

"No, you don't." Charlie replies. "You don't even care. You didn't try to help her!" 

Bosco slumps against the counter as though he's been punched in the gut. "I do care Charlie." he whispers. "I care very much." 

A lock clicks on one of the stalls and Charlie walks out. His nose is red and his eyes are swollen. "Emily said that you didn't try to help," Charlie says. "I didn't believe her." 

"Charlie, I'm so sorry." 

"I hate you." Charlie says calmly. 

"If I could bring her back, I would!" Bosco cries out. His voice is filled with anguish. I see his eyes are bright with unshed tears. 

Charlie shakes his head and blows his nose on a piece of toilet paper. "I don't want to see you again." he says and then stuffing the toilet paper into his pocket, he turns and leaves. 

Bosco watches as the door closes. He doesn't move, just leans against the counter. "Oh God," he breathes. 

I'm so sorry Bosco. Sorry that Charlie said those things. Sorry that I was stupid enough to get myself shot. 

"You gotta help me Faith." Bosco pleads. 

I try to touch him. Try to lay my hand on his face. As I reach out to touch him, Bosco pulls back as though he's been burned. 

"What the...?" 

It was me Bos. I'm here. 

Bosco touches his face, rubs the spot where I touched him. "Now I'm feelin' things." he mutters. "I'm a whack job. Need to be locked up." 

A loud bell rings, signalling the end of classes for recess. Loud voices fill the hallway outside the door and one child pushes it open. He looks up at Bosco with surprise. "Sorry." he mumbles and runs out of the room. 

Bosco laughs softly. Not out of humour. But out of self pity. "The kids are scared of me Faith." 

Not you Bosco. They're scared of the uniform. 

"They think I'm gonna arrest them cause they want to take a piss." 

Another child pushes open the door. "Whoa cool." he says, looking at Bosco. "We got police in the bathrooms now?" 

"Yeah," Bosco mutters. "Apparently everyone tryin' to take a leak is in grave danger." 

Bosco pushes open and leaves the washroom. He walks down the hallway, ignoring the stares of the children. Walks to his Mustang and pulls open the door. "Never again Faith," he whispers as he sits in the seat. "I'm never seein' Charlie again."   
  



	3. Part Three

"Lieu, you seen Boscorelli?" Chandler attaches his radio his belt and looks at Swersky, casting a questioning glance his way.   
  
"Naw," Swersky replies. "Haven't seen him. He's your partner, don't you know where he is?"   
  
"Do I look like his goddamned babysitter to you? The guy's always late, doesn't seem to give a shit about anything but that kid."   
  
They don't know that Bosco's not late. He's sitting in a washroom stall, feet up on the toilet, crying.   
  
"That kid?" Swersky asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face.   
  
"Yokas' kid, Charlie. He goes and visits him on dinner breaks."   
  
Swersky puts his hands on his hips. "Give it to me straight Chandler," he says, the muscles in his neck twitching a bit. "Is Bosco fit to be out there?"   
  
"You want the honest truth?" Chandler tosses his hands up in the air. "That guy shouldn't be out there. He shouldn't be at work. He risks his own life and everyone else's as well. I think he's off on some on some revenge kick. Can't seem to accept that Yokas is dead and gone."   
  
Swersky nods his head and looks sorrowful for a moment. "No one wants to accept that she's gone. She was a damn fine officer."   
  
"Didn't really know her." Chandler says. "Only by reputation."   
  
"Take a look around for Bosco," Swersky says. "When you find him, tell him I want to see him. I'm takin' him off patrol."   
  
A slight smile crosses Chandler's face. His stone grey eyes glint. "Be glad to Lieu." he says and then walks away.   
  
________________   
  
Bosco reaches for the roll of toilet paper and tears off a few pieces. Wads them up in the palm of his hand. He stopped crying a few minutes ago, finally gained control over his emotions. "Dammit," he whispers and wipes his hand over his face.   
  
"Pull yourself together Boscorelli." he says softly. His voice is tinged with anger. Bosco never did like showing emotion.   
  
Bosco? I look at him, red eyes, haggard appearance. He's not the man I once knew. Come on Bos, you gotta get over this. They're gonna fire you Bosco.   
  
"Faith?" Bosco tears off a few more pieces of paper. He plays with them, tearing them into shreds. "I bet they're all lookin' for me, huh? Wonderin' where I am."   
  
Yeah Bos, they are. Chandler's lookin' for you, gonna tell you that Swersky wants to see you.   
  
"Probably never think to look in a toilet stall." Bosco mutters. The shreds of toilet paper fall from his hand and scatter on the floor.   
  
The door to the room opens and heavy footsteps approach. Bosco draws his feet up further, trying to keep himself well hidden. His eyes flit around, he's scared. Scared of being caught in such a vulnerable position.   
  
"Boscorelli? You in here?" Chandler yells, his bass voice booming off the walls.   
  
Go to hell Chandler. Bosco doesn't need to see you right now. Doesn't need your false sympathies.   
  
Bosco draws in a shuddering breath. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." He tries to control his voice, but it falters slightly.   
  
"Lieu wants to see you Boscorelli." Chandler says. A quick glance reveals a sardonic smile pasted across his face. "You'd better be finished up quick."   
  
His footsteps retreat back out the door and Bosco lets out his breath. "Damn," Bosco whispers. "Probably gonna fire my ass for bein' such a nutcase."   
  
His blue eyes fill with tears again and Bosco looks helplessly down at his hands as the tears stream down his face. "I need you Faith." he whispers, his voice quavering. "Damn you Faith, this is all your fault."   
  
I know Bosco and I'm sorry. So sorry.   
  
"Why'd you hafta go and get shot Faith? I'm nothin' without you. Nothin'."   
  
I reach out to him, lay my hand on his trembling shoulder. Stay with me Bos. Don't you go doin' somethin' stupid on me now.   
  
Angrily he tears off a large strip of toilet paper and jams the wad in his face. He blows his nose and wipes off his cheeks. Then he stands up and opens the toilet stall. "I'm pathetic," he mumbles. "Cryin' in a stall like some goddamn five year old."   
  
Bosco splashes some cold water on his face and examines himself in the mirror. His eyes are still rimmed with red. It's obvious he's been crying. Drawing in a deep breath and steadying his composure, Bosco leaves the room and heads for Swersky's office.   
  
With a tentative hand, he knocks on the door. Three times, loud bangs. The glass rattles. "Come in!"   
  
Bosco turns the knob and enters the office. "Bosco." Swersky says with a nod of his head. "Have a seat."   
  
"I um, I prefer to stand." Bosco replies.   
  
"Suit yourself," Swersky says with a shrug. "Do you know why I called you here Bosco?"   
  
"I could make a few guesses." Bosco replies. "None of them good."   
  
"I know it hasn't been easy, adjusting to Officer Yokas' death. Especially for you. I've been getting some complaints, from your partner, fellow officers and the general public."   
  
"Great." Bosco mutters.   
  
"I'm taking you off patrol." Swersky says. "It's not permanent. Just until you talk to a bereavement counsellor and get yourself back on your feet."   
  
"I don't need to talk to a shrink." Bosco says. His eyes flash. "I don't know what you've been hearin', but I'm fine!"   
  
No Bosco, you aren't fine. I watch as Swersky shakes his head and pulls a piece of paper from his desk drawer. "Here's some names of counsellors, I want you to see one of them. It's mandatory."   
  
"And if I don't?" Bosco asks, challenging the lieutenant.   
  
"Then that's it. You're gone. Your career is over before it ever began."   
  
Bosco pauses for a moment. The wheels in his head turning. "Then I quit." he says finally. He takes off his badge and places it on Swersky's desk. His gun soon follows.   
  
Swersky just stares at Bosco, in disbelief. Bosco shrugs and leaves the office. He's fighting back the tears again. I can tell, I know these things. He heads for the locker room and tears off his uniform. Replaces it with a pair of faded jeans and an old, baggy sweatshirt.   
  
"Thanks a lot Faith." he whispers. "Now see what you've done?"   
  
He jams his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. I touch his face again. His eyes close as my fingers touch his cheek. "I need help." he whispers. "But not a damn shrink."   
  
Taking one last look around the room, Bosco leaves. Walks down the hallways, ignoring the questioning stares of his fellow officers. Ignoring the smirk on Chandler's face as he passes him by the door. I follow, not willing to leave Bosco alone.   
  
He gets into his car. Not bothering to do up the seatbelt, he tears out of the parking lot and down the street. Narrowly missing pedestrians and other vehicles. I don't know where he's going and I don't think he does either. He's driving to escape. To get away from the pain. 


	4. Part Four

He drives recklessly, running red lights, veering in and out of lanes. Never once noticing where he was going until he arrives there. Parks the car at the gates and then gets out and walks.   
  
There's a few others there, in the cemetery. Placing flowers on headstones, comforting a loved one. He had no one there with him. No one but me.   
  
Bosco approaches my grave cautiously, as though something is about to jump out and bite his legs. His face contorts as he tries to control his raging emotions. "Faith," he whispers. He sits down beside the headstone, crossing his legs like an obedient school child. "Hi Faith."   
  
Hi Bos. You didn't have to come all the way here to talk to me. He runs a hand over his face and then gently touches the cold stone. His finger traces my name. Date of birth and date of death.   
  
"They were gonna fire me." he says. His finger lingers over my name. Faith. "Swersky told me to see a shrink. Can you believe that?"   
  
He pulls his finger away and crosses his arms. Stares up at the sky, it's grey. Gloomy, threatening rain. "Said there'd been some complaints made about me. I don't need no shrink Faith."   
  
Bosco frowns. His lower eyelid twitches a bit and he paws at it angrily. "I was cryin' for you today Faith. Again. In the damn bathroom stall."   
  
Yes, I saw you. I was there Bosco.   
  
"Sorry I didn't bring you any flowers." he says softly. Looking at my headstone again. "I will next time. What kind do you want?"   
  
Doesn't matter Bos. I'll like whatever you bring me. He shifts slightly, uncrosses his legs. They're stretched out in front of him now. "Your family hates me."   
  
That's not true. Give them time.   
  
"Charlie never wants to see me again. I told him how I didn't try and help you Faith. I keep replaying it in my head, dammit. Wonderin' if maybe if I'd helped you, stopped the bleedin'. Would you still be here?"   
  
No, I was gone Bosco. He shot me in the head. There was nothing you could have done. Stop beatin' yourself up.   
  
"I ran after that guy Faith. I didn't even look at you, lyin' there. On that sidewalk. I went back there you know. Never told anyone before. I went back there and your blood was stainin' the cement."   
  
Damn you Bosco. I must have missed that, I didn't know he'd ever been back there. You shouldn't have gone. You didn't need to see that.   
  
He wipes a tear from his face and lightly touches my headstone again. His finger traces Faith repeatedly. As though he's trying desperately to touch me. Bosco was never the touchy feely type. We rarely hugged and now here he is, tryin' to reach out to me.   
  
I touch his arm and he shivers. Draws his jacket closer around himself. "Wind's picked up." he mumbles. "You always liked the wind, didn't you Faith?"   
  
I would give anything to feel the wind through my hair again. Feel it nipping at my face, rushing through my ears.   
  
"I should've helped you Faith. And I'm sorry."   
  
Bosco leans against my headstone. Rests his shoulder on it. I touch his face, run my fingers over his cheekbones. Brush them against his lips. "That you Faith?" he mumbles. His eyes are closed. As though he's afraid to open them, afraid of what he might see.   
  
Yeah, it's me Bos. I know you can feel me.   
  
His eyelids open just a crack. His blue eyes peer out, searching for me. "I can't see you." he whispers.   
  
"What the hell are you doin' here?" Bosco looks up in surprise at the sound of a loud familiar voice. I look up too and see my husband standing there.   
  
"I asked you a question Bosco, what are you doin' here?"   
  
"Nothin'." Bosco mumbles and picks himself up from the ground.   
  
Fred stares at him. Noting the red rimmed eyes. The dark circles. The haunted appearance. "You don't look so good." he comments.   
  
"I don't feel so good." Bosco replies. "Not that it's anything to you."   
  
Fred looks impassive for a moment. The muscles in his jaw twitch. "Charlie told me what happened at school."   
  
"Good for him. Told you what an asshole I was?"   
  
"Something along those lines. Didn't use those exact words though."   
  
Fred's holding a bouquet in his hands. Red roses, a dozen of them. He lays them down beside my headstone and looks at Bosco disapprovingly. "You didn't bring her flowers."   
  
"I..." Bosco stutters. "I didn't know what kind she liked."   
  
Fred shrugs. "Doesn't matter. Not like she'll see them anyway."   
  
Fred's changed since my death. He's become the man I once knew. Not the man I'd known since his heart attack.   
  
"What happened to all that crap about Heaven?" Bosco asks. "Faith probably went there. Watching down on all us mortal souls now. Surely God wouldn't have sent her to Hell."   
  
"God wouldn't have taken her away from us in the first place."   
  
Bosco looks stunned. "What happened to all that religious shit you used to preach? Huh Fred?"   
  
"I told you, God wouldn't have taken her away from us in the first place." Fred repeats himself. For his own benefit and for Bosco's.   
  
Bosco's silent for a moment. Kicks at the grass beneath his feet. He manages to dislodge a clump of earth and looks satisfied with himself. As though he's accomplished some fantastic feat. "You're right." he says finally. "God wouldn't have done that."   
  
Fred also looks satisfied, then his features darken. "I don't want you comin' near my son again. I want you out of his life. Stay away from my family."   
  
Bosco shrugs his shoulders as though he doesn't care. I'm sure he's torn up inside though. "Fine. I don't want to see them or you again."   
  
Fred nods his head. Bosco nods his. They nod heads for a while before Bosco says, "I'm going now."   
  
"Why aren't you at work?" Fred asks, finally noticing the time.   
  
"I quit." Bosco says matter of factly.   
  
"Oh." Fred says. He's shocked, unsure of how to react. "Why'd you do that?"   
  
"Some bullshit complaints about my behaviour." Bosco replies. "Easier to quit than be fired."   
  
Fred bends over and rearranges the flowers on my grave. Bosco takes this as his cue to leave and he trots across the field. Careful not to trod upon anyone's grave.   
  
He sits in his car. Staring at the world passing by in his rearview mirror. He blinks a few times and then starts the engine. Backs out into traffic without even looking.   
  
"Shut the hell up." Bosco mutters as the driver who had to slam on his brakes, lays on the horn. He takes off down the road, his foot never leaving the gas pedal. He's careless, throwing his own life to wind. Handing his soul over to the Devil.   
  
Stop driving Bos. Pull over and let yourself breathe. You need to calm down. I reach my hand out and lay it gently on his cheek. His muscles are taught, revealing the stress he's under.   
  
A car pulls out in front of him. The other driver didn't look, didn't make sure the road was clear. Bosco applies the brakes, shifts gears, but it doesn't do any good.   
  
Squealing tires. Smashing glass. Then silence. The other driver is dead. Killed on impact. In the distance I hear sirens and I beg them to hurry. 


	5. Part Five

It starts to rain. Just a drizzle at first, but it soon turns into a heavy downpour. The paramedics arrive, no one that I know. It could have easily been Doc and Carlos, or maybe even Kim and Alex. But we aren't in my...their precinct.   
  
The rain begins to wash away the blood. The blood on Bosco's face. The blood that has spilled onto the roadway from the other driver. The rain hits the twisted and torn metal of the two vehicles, drowning out the voices. The voices that are saying, "He's crashing!"   
  
They put Bosco into the ambulance, close the doors and drive away. Wait! I didn't get in, I need to be with him. Bosco, I'm so sorry that I'm not there.   
  
_______________   
  
"He's strong. He's a fighter."   
  
I don't believe her either Mrs Boscorelli. Rose wraps her arms around herself and stands alone in the sterile hallway. The nurse who had spoken with her walks away, her shoes squeaking as she goes.   
  
"My baby..." Rose whispers and covers her mouth with a hand. A shaking, pale white hand.   
  
There's voices coming down the hall. Familiar voices, loud voices. The familiar figures of Ty and Sully appear, concerned expressions on both their faces. "Mrs Boscorelli?" Sully asks, looking unsure, even as he says her name.   
  
Rose nods. "Do you...do you work with my son?"   
  
Sully nods. If he knows about Bosco quitting, which I'm sure he must, he says nothing. "I'm sorry, about what happened. How is he?"   
  
Ty leans against the wall, waiting for Rose to say something. Sully stands near her, looking as if he's ready to catch her if she falls. "Not good." Rose replies. A look flashes over her face, fear and something else. Something that I can't quite discern.   
  
"The woman at the desk, she told us that he's in surgery." Ty says.   
  
Rose nods. "He's been there for a while now. Is that a bad thing?"   
  
"No ma'am," Sully says and places his large hand on her shoulder. "It's not a bad thing."   
  
Rose shakes her head, looks down at the floor. "It's my fault." she says, not looking up. "I know he's been in a lot of pain since Faith's death. I should have helped him."   
  
That's not true Rose, I don't think there's a damn thing you could have done. Yes, you could have called more often. Refused to serve him alcohol when he came into your bar during the wee hours of the morning. He needed to help himself.   
  
"Ma'am," Sully starts to say something and then appears to think better of it. For a moment anyway. Then he continues, "You don't think that Bosco did this on purpose do you?"   
  
Rose looks up at him. "You don't?"   
  
___________________   
  
"Faith..." Bosco's eyes open and he looks around the room frantically.   
  
I'm here Bos. I touch his cheek and he immediately relaxes under my touch.   
  
It's been a day since his surgery, he pulled through. Much to relief of his mother and his former colleagues.   
  
A nurse rushes into the room. "Oh Mr Boscorelli! You're awake! That's wonderful!" She sounds too perky. And looks much too young to be a fully qualified nurse.   
  
Bosco looks up at her. "Faith..." he whispers.   
  
The nurse cocks her head to the side. "Do you want a bible Mr Boscorelli? I'm sure I could scrounge one up for you!"   
  
Bosco closes his eyes. The nurse looks at him with puzzlement. "You want faith? Do you want a minister?"   
  
"No, I want Faith." Bosco replies. His eyes open and looks up at the nurse.   
  
"I don't understand Mr Boscorelli," the nurse falters slightly. "I think I'd better get a doctor."   
  
She leaves the room. Bosco struggles in bed, he's trying to sit up. "Faith?" he says and gives up on the idea of sitting up.   
  
Yeah Bos? I lay my hand gently over his. The one without the IV line in it.   
  
"I saw you Faith. Just before that car hit mine. I saw you."   
  
There's voices in the hall, they're coming closer.   
  
"You were sittin' there next to me. Your hair was all loose 'round your shoulders. And then you put your hand on my cheek."   
  
I did, I did do that. But how could he have seen me? Was it all a delusion created by his troubled mind? A fragment of a memory that returned to him as he witnessed the crash? Or did he really see me?  
  
A doctor steps into the room, the too-young nurse hovers behind him. "Mr Boscorelli. Good to see you're awake."   
  
Bosco nods but doesn't say anything.   
  
"You gave us a bit of a scare there." the doctor says and consults a chart. "Nurse Howard says that you've been making a request for faith. We do have a chapel in the hospital, and if you would like, we can arrange for a priest to come by."   
  
"He doesn't want that." says a familiar voice from behind the doctor. "He's looking for Faith."   
  
The doctor turns around and steps to the side slightly. "Who are you? Are you Faith?"   
  
"No, but I knew her. My name's Kim Zambrano, I'm a..friend of Bosco's." Kim looks across the room at Bosco. He looks surprised to see her.   
  
"Is Faith someone that we should call?" the doctor asks. "A spouse? His girlfriend?"   
  
"No," Kim lowers her voice. "She was his partner. She died a couple months ago."   
  
"Oh." The doctor looks increasingly worried. "I'll call for a psych consult."   
  
Kim shakes her head rapidly. "No, don't do that. Can I talk to him? Alone?"   
  
The doctor, thinking he now has a lunatic case on his hands looks reluctant to leave. "You say you're his friend?"   
  
"You don't have to talk like I'm not in the room," Bosco finally speaks up. "She's my friend, so let her stay."   
  
Kim looks over at Bosco, a small smile on her face. She pushes her dark hair back from her face. "Please leave."   
  
The nurse scurries away and the doctor soon follows suit. I watch as Kim heads towards the bed, pulls up a chair and sits down. "We were worried about you." she says. "All of us were."   
  
"Even Carlos?" Bosco looks dubious.   
  
"Even Carlos." Kim says. She pushes back her hair again. It seems to have developed a mind of its own. "Bosco, I know how hard it's been on you since Faith died."   
  
Bosco turns his head away from her. "You all think I've gone crazy."   
  
"I was there too Bosco," Kim says. I forget sometimes that she was. "I saw her, laying there. I tried to save her Bosco, believe me I did."   
  
"So I heard." Bosco says. "I was too busy trying to satisfy my need for revenge to even look at her."   
  
"Don't blame yourself." Kim says, her voice soft as though she were talking to her son Joey. "Believe me, I know what it's like. You replay it, in your head. Wondering if you had something differently, would they still be alive today?"   
  
A look of pain crosses over her face and I realize that she's talking about Bobby. Bosco realizes it too and he looks back at her again. "I didn't try to kill myself, if that's what you're gettin' at."   
  
"I'm not saying that you did." Kim replies. "I'm just sayin', I know what you're going through."   
  
Bosco shakes his head. "No. No, you don't."   
  
Kim bites down on her bottom lip. "I do Bosco, I do. I know how much she meant to you. And I know what it's like to lose a person like that. Feels like someone ripped you in half, and hid that other half."   
  
"She's still here." Bosco says and looks around the room.   
  
Kim frowns and then stands up. "I gotta go Bosco." She looks a little disturbed by Bosco's last statement. She throws her jacket on and leaves the room without saying another word.   
  
"I scared her off Faith." Bosco whispers. His eyes close and he sighs. "Scared her off." 


	6. Part Six

He's sleeping finally and looking all of five years old as he does. His face is contorted, as though he were in pain. But he shouldn't be, the doctors gave him enough to medication to knock out a horse. He must be dreaming.   
  
I touch his head gently. He's sweating and his lips move in a silent voice. I keep my hand on him until morning comes.   
  
________________   
  
"Bosco?" It's Sully's voice, from the doorway. He's standing there, out of uniform.   
  
Bosco's head drifts in the direction of Sully's voice. He looks at him blankly and doesn't say anything.   
  
"I just thought I should come by, see how you were doin'." Sully says. He looks uncomfortable. "Thought maybe I should give you heads up. Some detectives are gonna drop by and see you later today."   
  
"They gonna charge me for wrecking my car?" Bosco asks.   
  
"No, but the other drive is dead Bosco. They just want to talk to you."   
  
Sully shifts his weight to his other foot and clears his throat. Bosco continues to simply stare at him, and I think it's making Sully nervous. "Thanks for coming by." Bosco says. He doesn't look as though he really means it.   
  
Sully nods. "If you ever need to, you know, talk about anything..."   
  
Bosco picks at his sheets. "Yeah, thanks."   
  
Sully shoves his hands into his pockets and leaves the doorway. Bosco closes his eyes, relieved that he's gone.   
  
"No one ever cared before." Bosco says quietly. "And then you crash your car and suddenly they want to be your best friend."   
  
That's not true, they all cared before Bos. You were just such a pompous ass that you couldn't have noticed it.   
  
Bosco lays his head down and winces at the pressure of the pillow. He runs a hand over his face, lightly touching the stitches on his forehead. "I didn't do this on purpose Faith. I didn't try and kill myself."   
  
Never said that you did Bos. I was there, remember? You were driving too fast, too careless, but the accident wasn't your fault.   
  
"I have thought about it." Bosco continues to talk. His eyes are still closed. "But you'd probably kick my ass if you found out I'd done that. I've really fucked everything up now, haven't I."   
  
Bosco opens his eyes. His blue eyes are dead. They used to sparkle, but now there's nothing. I took that sparkle with me when I died.   
  
"I wish I had died in that accident Faith. Because then I'd be with you."   
  
_______________   
  
"Uncle B?"   
  
Bosco jerks upright, very nearly tearing his heart monitor off his chest. My son is standing in the doorway, looking scared and tentative.   
  
"Charlie?" Bosco's voice is hoarse.   
  
"Yeah, it's me." Charlie steps into the room and hovers beside Bosco's bedside. "I heard what happened to you."   
  
"Thought you never wanted to see me again." Bosco says.   
  
"I didn't, and my dad wanted me to stay away from you. He doesn't know I'm here though. I took a cab over here."   
  
Charlie's grown up so much since my death. He used to be a little boy, watching cartoons and now he's turned into a young man. "That wasn't very smart." Bosco replies. I have to agree.   
  
"I wanted to see you. The guy that called our house said that you'd been hurt pretty bad. And I wanted to find out if you were still here."   
  
"Who called you?" Bosco looks surprised that anyone would think to call my house.   
  
"One of the officers." Charlie says. "He didn't give a name. Just said that you'd been in an accident."   
  
Charlie looks Bosco up and down, as though inspecting him for damage. Bosco keeps his eyes on him. "When I told Emily what happened," Charlie says and then pauses for a brief moment. "She said that she hoped you had died."   
  
"Don't blame her." Bosco says, his voice tinged with sadness.   
  
"Dad said that you've quit your job. That you're not a police officer anymore."   
  
Bosco nods and then winces at the moment. "He's right. I did quit."   
  
"Did you quit because of my mom? Because she left, so you didn't want work there anymore?"   
  
Charlie asks the question as if I've simply quit as well. Moved onto another job.   
  
"Yeah buddy, I quit 'cause your mom left." Bosco replies.   
  
A nurse bursts into the room and she looks surprised to see Charlie standing beside Bosco. "Is this your son?" the nurse asks and smiles at Charlie.   
  
"No, Bosco's my friend." Charlie answers for Bosco. "I just wanted to make sure he was alright."   
  
The nurse smiles again. "He's going to be just fine. I'm going to have to ask you to leave now though. Visiting hours are over. You can come back later this afternoon if you like though."   
  
Charlie's backing out of the room, nodding his head as he goes. "Sure, thanks." he says and waves to Bosco. "I'll see you later."   
  
The nurse bends over Bosco and starts to say something to him, but I'm more interested in my son at the moment. I follow him out of the room and down the hospital corridor.   
  
______________   
  
Charlie walks out of the hospital through the glass sliding doors. He looks so small, surrounded by the buildings and the other people milling about. One woman smiles at him and looks around, searching for a parent. When she doesn't see one, she makes her way over to him. "Hey there little boy." she says in a voice that should have been reserved for babies.   
  
Charlie eyes her warily. "Hi." he says and tries to keep walking.   
  
"Where's your momma?" the woman asks and tries to ruffle his hair. Charlie backs away from her.   
  
"She's inside." Charlie says. "She told me to wait out here."   
  
"Oh?" the woman looks behind her. "She's in the hospital?"   
  
"Yes." Charlie states. "Paying the bill."   
  
The woman smiles at Charlie. Her teeth are crooked and slightly stained. Most likely a smoker. I will Charlie to run away from her, I know she's up to no good. The woman touches Charlie's cheek and Charlie's eyes widen.   
  
"If your momma's inside, then she won't hear you scream." the woman says and puts her hand over Charlie's mouth.   
  
The people walking by ignore what's going on. I want to yell at them to help him, help my son. All they see is a disobedient little boy being punished by his mother. Or they don't see anything at all.   
  
"Your momma shouldn't have left a pretty little boy like you all alone." she says and looks around cautiously before roughly grabbing Charlie's arm and hauling him down the sidewalk.   
  
I try and stop her. Touch her arm, touch her face. If she can feel me like I know Bosco can, she's ignoring me. Charlie's eyes are frantic and he tries to wriggle out from her grasp. "Bosco!" he calls out.   
  
She puts my son in a car and pulls out into the busy street. An ambulances passes us by. No one knows that this woman has just stolen my child. 


	7. Part Seven

She has my son in her basement. She's given him toys and candy, but Charlie's smart. He knows he's in trouble. "Mom!" he cries out, as if there's something that I can do.   
  
"Bosco!" he yells out again. Tears are threatening in his large, dark eyes.   
  
The woman comes down the stairs, she's holding a giant stuffed bear. "Shhhh sweetie." she says soothingly. "Look what I've brought you!"   
  
Charlie kicks her, his feet landing on her stomach. She gasps and drops the bear. "You little bastard," she hisses and brings her hand up to Charlie's face. "You do that again and you'll be sorry."   
  
Her nails rake across my son's face, leaving their trail marked in blood. Charlie winces but refuses to let himself cry. I'm proud of him, proud of the way he's handling himself.   
  
"My mom's a cop." Charlie says, staring at the woman. "She's going to find you and throw you in jail."   
  
The woman shakes her head and shows her crooked teeth in a dim approximation of a smile. "You're mamma's dead, little boy."   
  
"No, she's not." Charlie retorts. "She's going to find me and then you'll be sorry."   
  
The woman snorts with disgust and picks up the bear. She throw it on Charlie's lap and leaves the basement. Her footsteps heavy on the wooden stairs.   
  
Charlie wraps his arms around the bear and only once he hears the door slam shut does he allow himself to cry.   
  
________________   
  
Bosco lays in bed, his eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful, so at ease. He doesn't know that Charlie's missing. As much as it pains me to do so, I left Charlie, curled up asleep on the small bed.   
  
Bosco murmurs something in his sleep and his arms jerks suddenly. He's probably having a nightmare. I touch his shoulder and try to calm him down.   
  
The phone beside his bed begins to ring. Bosco's eyes flutter as his brain registers the intruding noise. Sleepily, he reaches over and grabs the phone.   
  
"Hello?" he whispers, and then clears his throat. "Hello?" he says again, stronger this time.   
  
His brow contorts with some emotion as he listens to what the speaker on the other end has to say.   
  
"He came to see me a few hours ago I guess." Bosco says and struggles to sit up in the bed but then gives up.   
  
They know about Charlie, I realize with an immense feeling of relief. Fred must have realized that he was gone and called the police. Bosco hangs up the phone and leans his head back on the pillow.   
  
"Charlie's missing Faith." he whispers and looks pained. "It's my fault."   
  
I wish I could tell him that I know where Charlie is. I lay my hand on his cheek, the muscles tremble beneath my touch. "I'm so sorry Faith." Bosco whispers. "I should have insisted that he call Fred for a ride, or better yet, arranged a police escort for him."   
  
I know where he is Bosco, just listen to me. Please, just listen to me.   
  
"I can't do a damned thing about it Faith. I'm stuck here in the hospital and I don't have my badge anyway."   
  
Please Bosco! A woman took him, a woman with crooked, stained teeth and matted hair. She has him, in her basement. She's going to hurt him.   
  
"I guess they'll want to talk to me, ask me why I just sent a young boy home without any supervision."   
  
In her basement Bosco! Just listen to me, you have to hear me. She took him away from me. I need you to hear me.   
  
"I let you get killed Faith, and now I've let your son get kidnapped." Bosco moans and tries to sit up again. I move my hand from his cheek down to his arm and try to grasp onto him.   
  
He's not interested in listening to me. He's not interested in feeling me. I have to leave. I have to see if Charlie's okay.   
  
________________   
  
"Mommy," Charlie whispers. "Please help me." He pushes a small truck along the floor, making vroom vroom noises.   
  
She's set up a videocamera, to watch my son. To watch my son play with the toys that she so thoughtfully provided for him. The scratches on his face have turned an angry red. Her nails weren't clean.   
  
"Play with the fire engine now sweetie." comes the woman's disembodied voice from a speaker set up beside the camera. "Can you make siren noises for me?"   
  
Charlie abandons the truck and reaches for the engine. It has battery operated lights and sirens, but he's been forbidden to touch the button. "Wee-ooo--weee-ooo..." Charlie half heartedly makes a siren noise and pushes the engine along the floor.   
  
The woman laughs with delight. Delight at using my son for her sick games. "That's very good sweetie! Can you play with the police car too?"   
  
Charlie reaches for the small squad car. "It's my mom and Bosco's squad car." he whispers and peers inside as if he's expecting to see small figures sitting in the seats.   
  
"Make the siren sweetie and have them save the day!"   
  
Charlie pushes the car along the floor until it smashes into the fire engine. "They had an accident." he whispers. "Like Bosco did."   
  
"Do you want some juice sweetheart?"   
  
Say no Charlie. Charlie gazes over at the camera and shakes his head. "No thank you. I'm fine."   
  
"You must be thirsty after all that playing."   
  
"No, I'm not." Charlie picks the fire engine off its side and rams it into the police car. "Take that!" he whispers and sends the squad car spinning across the floor.   
  
The door at the top of the steps opens and the woman slowly makes her way down the stairs. She's carrying a glass of purple liquid. "It's kool-aid sweetie. You like kool-aid, don't you?"   
  
Charlie shakes his head. "My mom says it rots my teeth."   
  
She kneels down beside Charlie. "Open your mouth, you ungrateful child." she hisses and rakes one fingernail across his already scraped face.   
  
Charlie winces but still refuses to open his mouth. The woman clenches her teeth in anger. "Open your mouth now." She reaches for his face and forces his mouth open.   
  
"Noo!" Charlie screams and tries to kick her again. She moves out of the way of his flailing legs, picking up the glass of kool-aid.   
  
"Fine, don't drink it!" she yells and dumps the sticky mess onto his head.   
  
Charlie looks shocked and wipes at his eyes. The purple liquid runs down his cheeks and stains his shirt. The woman just shakes her head and goes back upstairs. The door slams shut violently, causing the frame of the house to rattle.   
  
Someone will save you Charlie. Someone has to save you soon. I'll do everything in my power to make that happen. I know that Bosco can hear me, I know he can feel me. I'll make sure that he helps you sweetie. 


	8. Part Eight

Bosco sits alone in his hospital room, blanket to his chest, sweat covering his brow. He's muttering to himself about what a stupid mistake he's made. A child is missing, and it's his fault.   
  
The police, they're looking for my son but in all the wrong places. They don't have any leads, they don't have a single soul that saw a young boy leave the hospital without a parent and be taken away. No one has seen a young boy wandering around New York, by himself. No one knows where Charlie is, expect me.   
  
Bosco wipes the sweat off his brow and pushes the covers back. He swings one leg off the bed and touches the floor with his toe. Immediately he pulls it back, as though the floor is alarmed and an army of nurses is about to come rushing in.   
  
One hand crosses over his chest, holding his battered ribs as though he's afraid they will come tumbling out of his body as he moves. He draws in a shallow breath and puts his foot back on the floor again.   
  
Slowly he touches down with the other foot and hauls himself to his feet. Taking small, staggering steps, he makes it across the room and into the washroom where he shuts the door.   
  
He's crying again, behind that closed door. His sobs are muffled and I picture him burying his head in the crook of his arm. Holding himself as the sobs rack through his bruised body. Building up pain and coursing it through him.   
  
What happened to the man I once knew? Is this him? Crying in the washroom? I thought I had seen the worst when he came to me and talked about September Eleventh. That was nothing compared to this.   
  
A nurse enters Bosco's room and looks around. Her eyes widen as she sees the empty bed. Don't worry honey, he hasn't escaped out the window. Check the washroom.   
  
The nurse knocks on the washroom door. "Mr Boscorelli? You should have called me if you needed to go!"   
  
"Go away." comes Bosco's muffled replied.   
  
"Are you okay in there Mr Boscorelli? Do you need any assistance?"   
  
"I can take a leak on my own!" Bosco roars and the nurse takes a step backward. Good idea hon, you don't want to get between Bosco and his temper.   
  
The nurse leaves the room, muttering a promise to return in a few minutes and smack Bosco around a bit. "Damn police officers," she says, "Always think they rule the place."   
  
________________   
  
Charlie is curled up asleep with his arms around the big teddy bear. His small, pink lips are puckered slightly and he's making soft sucking noises. I touch him and he shudders under my hand. His dark hair, in need of a trim, falls over his eyes. Creating a fringe for him to hide under.   
  
There's footsteps upstairs as my son's captor begins her daily routine. It doesn't seem right that she should act so normal. She brews the coffee. She pours the cereal and coats it with milk. Shouldn't she be pulling human hearts from her freezer and eating those instead?   
  
The camera is still on, recording my son as he sleeps. I imagine that she's upstairs, sitting at the table with her bowl of corn flakes, watching my son as he sleeps. Her perverse pleasure in the act mounting until she can take it no longer. And hurts him.   
  
Charlie begins to stir and opens an eye to gaze around at this cruel world. Realizing where he still is, his eyes glisten with tears. "Mommy!" he cries out, unable to control his gut reaction.   
  
"Shhhh sweetie," says the disembodied voice. Her mouth is full of cereal, obscuring her words. "Don't cry."   
  
Charlie pulls the bear up to cover his face. Is he ashamed to have her see him cry?   
  
A chair scrapes across the floor and then the door at the top of the steps creaks open. She appears, carrying a small, plastic bowl and a glass of orange juice.   
  
She settles herself down beside Charlie and offers him the cereal. Stubbornly, Charlie shakes his head. He's not hungry he tells her.   
  
"Nonsense!" the woman exclaims. "All that playing and you're not hungry? Look at you, you're practically wasting away!"   
  
Charlie looks tempted as he gazes down into the bowl filled to the brim with colourful shapes and marshmallows. The milk is turning purple and is probably sickly sweet. Just the way that Charlie likes it. "No thank you." Charlie says and pushes the bowl away from himself.   
  
The milk and the cereal spills across the woman's breast. Staining her white shirt. "You little..." she hisses. "You're getting to be more trouble than you're worth."   
  
Good. Let him go then.   
  
Charlie looks proud of himself and throws the orange juice across her chest as well. The orange mixes with the purple.   
  
The woman stands up and pushes her greasy locks out of her face. She shows her decayed teeth in a snarl and rushes upstairs. I hope she bought that ultra laundry detergent. She's going to need it.   
  
________________   
  
I had to leave Charlie again. The woman seems less interested him after the breakfast incident. She was pacing her kitchen, muttering to herself. Wondering how she could get herself a new little boy.   
  
Bosco is staring blankly a television mounted on the wall. His hand limply holds the remote.   
  
"I know you're here Faith." Bosco murmurs but doesn't take his eyes off the screen. "That cold draft, that's you."   
  
You're learning Bosco. Good for you.   
  
"Come to berate me for losing your son? For being such an irresponsible jerk? The detectives were here earlier - asked me a bunch of questions. I couldn't help them. I can't do a damn thing Faith. I can't even get out of this bed without falling over."   
  
You can do something Bosco. You just have to listen to me. I touch his cheek and focus on him. Block out all else in the world. Focus on Bosco.   
  
"Don't touch me Faith. I don't like it when you do that." he whispers. His eyes still focussed on the screen.   
  
Focus on my touch Bosco. Don't pull away from me. I need you to listen.   
  
Bosco is still. His breathing is shallow. He blinks once and then again. A flicker of fear crosses his eyes and he swallows. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asks. "I can't help you."   
  
A woman took Charlie, Bosco. Listen to me, I know where he is.   
  
"Stop it please Faith." Bosco tries to pull away from me.   
  
Damn you Bosco! She's going to kill him! Please just stop being afraid. Just for a moment Bosco, can you be the man I once knew? The man I lost that day on the sidewalk?   
  
Bosco draws in a shuddering breath and winces as the pain hits him. "That man died with you Faith." he murmurs.   
  
He heard me. Finally, he heard me. Listen to me now Bosco. She took Charlie. Grabbed him outside of the hospital.   
  
"Who took him?" Confusion crosses over his face. "I don't get it Faith."   
  
A woman, with bad teeth and greasy hair. She took Charlie, she has him in her basement. And she's going to kill him.   
  
Bosco nods. Confidence returns to his features. Brightening his eyes. Returning his spirit. He realizes now that he can help. And I tell him where Charlie is being kept and he reaches for the phone.   
  
Thank you for listening to me Bosco.   
  
"Could I ever ignore you?"   
  
He dials a number and then, we wait. 


	9. Part Nine

The house is silent except for the steady sound of Charlie's breathing. His eyes keep glancing up at the staircase. He's expecting her to come down those stairs any minute. But there are no footsteps echoing through the floorboards, no dishes clanging, no words coming from the microphone. The silence is almost deafening.   
  
Bosco has called the police. They hemmed and they hawed over his claim that he knew where Charlie Yokas was. "You had already informed us, Mister Boscorelli (emphasis on the Mister) that you had no idea of the whereabouts of this child."   
  
Despite their misgivings, they are coming to save my son. The emergency services unit, armed with long guns and staffed with highly trained men. The unit that my partner could have been part of. He still dreams of being one of those men, rushing into a tense situation and saving the day.   
  
But Bosco doesn't need to be part of any superficial unit to save the day. He can do that just by being himself. Just by closing his eyes and listening carefully.   
  
A thud echoes upstairs and Charlie holds his breath. He thinks that it's that woman, come back to hurt him. Another thud thunders and the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass filters down the stairs.   
  
Charlie's eyes widen as his brain attempts to process these noises. Heavy footsteps - not those of a woman wearing shoes, but of men wearing boots - pound on the floor and a voice calls out, "Down here! In the basement!"   
  
The door swings open and light pours into the basement. Charlie shields his eyes with a hand and looks up. There are figures, shrouded with light and they are coming down the steps.   
  
"He's over here!" calls the man leading the pack. The man shoulders his gun and reaches down to touch Charlie. "Are you okay? Can you walk?"   
  
Charlie looks up at him, his eyes filled with wonderment and admiration. "Do you work with my mom?" he asks and clutches his teddy bear.   
  
The man nods and picks up Charlie; teddy bear and all. "I knew her." he replies. I look at the man, not recognizing his face. Maybe he knew me, maybe he didn't. That doesn't matter now. He helped save my son.   
  
________________   
  
"They found the woman," Bosco says and tilts his head. "The crazy, old bitch lost her son about a decade ago. Guess she figured that Charlie would make a good replacement."   
  
To anyone merely passing by, Bosco would appear to holding a conversation with himself. He nodded his head, smiled and spoke volumes of words. His features were animated - the pain of the past few months seemingly erased.   
  
"Faith? Did you hear me? I said they found the woman."   
  
I heard you, I was just thinking.   
  
"About what?"   
  
I was thinking about you. He shifts in his bed and closes his eyes.   
  
Bosco's face breaks out into a small grin. The corners of his closed eyes crinkle slightly. "If I close my eyes," he murmurs. "I can see you. Were you really there Faith? When I crashed the car? Were you really sitting beside me?"   
  
I was.   
  
"Wish you hadn't had to see that," Bosco whispers and opens his eyes. "But things will be better now. I promise."   
  
A small knock sounds on the door and it opens a crack, permitting Bosco a glimpse of a small, anxious face. One that I'm sure he never expected to see again.   
  
"Hi Bosco, can I come in?"   
  
Wearily, Bosco nods. Emily steps inside the room and quietly closes the door again. She crosses her arms and hovers over Bosco's bed. "I hope you didn't come here alone." Bosco says. "I don't need to lose you too."   
  
Emily shakes her head. "No, Dad's downstairs. He didn't want to see you but he said he'd drive me over."   
  
"Why are you here Em?"   
  
"I guess, I guess I just wanted to thank you for saving Charlie. The police said that you knew where he was." Emily says and then frowns. "But they didn't say how you knew."   
  
Bosco raises one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."   
  
"Try me." Emily says and straightens her posture. She's challenging Bosco. Challenging him with all her fourteen year old might.   
  
"Your mom told me."   
  
Emily's face remains impassive for a second before she shakes her head. "You sure must have hit your head hard when you crashed your car."   
  
"Maybe I did." Bosco replies with a smile.   
  
Emily returns his smile and then nods in the direction of the door. "I've gotta get going. Dad said not to be too long. We're all going out for dinner tonight."   
  
"Have fun." Bosco says. Emily nods and hurries out of the room as though Bosco will reach out and grab her. Forbid her to leave.   
  
"You going with them Faith?" he asks, once Emily is safely away.   
  
I had thought of going with them. Being there while they all talk, as Charlie tells of the horrors he endured and Emily complains that her food it too spicy.   
  
But no, they don't need me there. They're going to do fine on their own.   
  
"Stay here with me then?" Bosco asks.   
  
And listen to you complain about the mush they feed you here? Maybe I'll take my chances with my family.   
  
"Just for a little while." Bosco says. "I promise that I'll be good."   
  
Bosco lays down and pulls the covers up to his chin. His head sinks down into the fluffy pillow. Just his face is visible, peeking out over the covers.   
  
"I miss you." Bosco whispers.   
  
I miss you too but that's why I have to leave.   
  
"Don't go Faith."   
  
It's for the best Bos. You don't need me here anymore than I need you here with me. Remember that Bosco.   
  
Bosco's eyes close and he nods. Like a child, wrapped in blankets, ready for bed. I touch his face and then I'm gone. 


	10. Part Ten End

It's been twelve years now since Charlie's abduction. Where does the time go? I blinked and suddenly twelve years had passed without me even realizing it.   
  
Despite his ordeal - or perhaps as a result of it - Charlie has grown into a fine young man. I was shocked, when just last month, he announced to his father and I that he was joining the police force.   
  
I saw him off, dressed to the nines in his cadet uniform, grinning proudly as he stood below the words, "Police Academy". I had, once upon a time, thought that Charlie looked nothing like Faith, but as I saw him there, as I had seen her all those years ago, it hit me that the resemblance was breathtaking.   
  
He had hugged his father and shaken my hand. Said, "Thanks, I couldn't have done this without you." Then he disappeared into the swarm of cadets, blending in.   
  
You would have been so proud of him Faith. I could almost see you, standing at Fred's side - as I'm certain that you never would have left it - dabbing at your teary eyes with a tissue. You would have said, "That's my baby. Look at him, all grown up."   
  
Maybe you were there. Dabbing at your invisible eyes with an invisible tissue. Perhaps your invisible eyes have seen everything.   
  
I have no children to call my own. Charlie and Emily are the closest thing I have. Fred keeps saying to me, "Damn it Bosco, you're spoiling them rotten. Stop making me look bad."   
  
When I purchased a house for Emily and her husband as a wedding present, Fred hugged me and whispered into my ear, "Don't make me wish that you'd died in that crash." He didn't mean it of course, it was just Fred's way of thanking me.   
  
Neither Emily nor I have ever spoken out about how Charlie was saved from the clutches of evil. The press would have had a field day with that. Could you imagine? "Dead Mother Saves Son's Life - Read The Amazing, True Story!"   
  
After a few years had passed, Emily came to me again and spoke in whispered tones. "Did you mean, what you about said mom saving Charlie?"   
  
I had nodded and we exchanged sly smiles. It was to be our secret. One that both of us would take to the grave.   
  
_______________   
  
Sometimes I still think that you're near me. Whenever I feel a cold breeze blow through a room, I think it's you. I'll take a look around, searching for your ghostly figure. It's never there of course, it's all in my head.   
  
Hell, sometimes I think that all of it was in my head. I had a conversation with a dead woman. But your words were too true to be a product of my grief stricken mind. Had I manufactured the entire experience, no doubt I would have had you channelling Elvis. "Thank ya, thank ya very much."   
  
Sometimes I'll think that I feel your icy fingers touch my cheek and I close my eyes. Try to conjure up your image in my head, remember the feel of your presence. It's getting harder as the years pass by. You will forever remain young, while the rest of age and wither.   
  
Our friends still speak of you. Most often laughing, as we recount some idiot scheme of mine and of how you tried to prevent it. Then we'll remember how brave you were. And silence will settle over as we sit with our respective memories.   
  
Did I ever tell you that I was offered a place back on the force? It was a few months after Charlie's abduction, after I had fully recovered. One of the big guys, one of the brass, appeared at my door. I turned him down - I wanted no part of the life that had killed you.   
  
I didn't think I could handle it; being paired up with a rookie. All wide eyed and innocent. I was afraid that I would fail them as I had failed you. So instead, I turned to my mother. She offered me a position as a bar tender in her bar.   
  
Bar tending was never my dream job. It wasn't even a job that I had ever seriously considered. But you know what? I'm good at it. Damn good at it. I enjoy the people, listening to their conversations, learning about their lives.   
  
Ma's still alive and kicking. I don't think she'll ever grow old. Sometimes, I feel older than her. She talks about you sometimes, "Your partner, Faith? Was that her name?"   
  
She hasn't actually forgotten. She loved you Faith. Like the daughter that she never had. This was just her way of dealing - pretend you don't remember because then maybe you'll forget. I tried it, it doesn't work. So that's why I remember.   
  
_________________   
  
Bosco stood up, his knees protesting the movement. All those years of running had taken their toll on his joints. Hadn't he been warned of that danger but paid no heed? Probably.   
  
"So, that's about it." he said and looked at the headstone. The weather was just starting to attack it. The rain and the wind wearing away at the smooth rock. "I'll see you again soon."   
  
Before he left, Bosco bent over and rearranged the flowers that he had left scattered about. "Hope you like them." he whispered and then straightened himself out again.   
  
Roses red, blowing in the breeze. Sending petals into the heavens. Bosco smiled as he felt the coolness work its way under his collar. Windy days made him happy. They reminded him of her. 


End file.
